Awoken Animals
by TheJediBakerGirl
Summary: Nira's mission is simple: Get Bane out of prison, spare as little lives as possible. Well, she can do that. That's the simple part of the job. What the hard part of this rescue mission is keeping herself alive while trying not to kill him herself.
1. Prolouge

It was dark, like it always was. And he'd lost track of time, sitting on the tightly-packed dirt ground of his cell. Well, then again, he'd lost track of time around the time he had fallen asleep and woken back up, still in a dank, cold Republic prison cell, hat still gone, blaster still gone, dignity and self-worth, gone. Gone gone gone. He hated this. He really_ really _hated this, what with two clone troopers standing on either side of the cell bars, both with blasters, locked and loaded for absolutly nothing in particular. He wouldn't escape. He's tried that before. Several times, actually. Tried to dig himself out one time, another he tried to lure in his guards so he could snap one of their necks and get their blaster, kill the other one, and shoot himself out of the cell; another time where he had just threw himself at the wall and the bars, threatening to kill them the minute he was out in the most horrible, slowest, way possible. A dark-green bloodied shoulder and a cracked palm told him and the clones otherwise.

It had, from what he thought, been almost three months since he last saw the bright sun of Coruscant. Since he last was warm. Since the last time he felt like he could take the whole galaxy on and no one could stop him. That was seemingly three months ago. Now he was locked in a cell, everything stripped from him because he was an idiot and got caught by two Jedi. Caught by Kenobi and Windu shortly after escaping Black Stall Station. He snarled lowly to himself. Those were the ones to be taken down right after the gaurds that stood in his way of escape - which could mean all of them. His blue hands started to tremble as anger pulsed through him. It was all the Republics' fault. He was sitting in a cell, not being given missions that any bounty hunter would clamour for. High-paying, fun missions that kept him busy and out of, well, everything seedy in Coruscant's underworld. At least there was _one _perk to being locked up here.

oOo

Coruscant suburbs were relativly quiet during the middle of the afternoon. Everyone was usually at work, while she was at home, taking care of everything around the house. Well, in truth, she was really waiting for an assignment. She hadn't gotten one in almsot a month now. She was half glad about that: she was spending more time with her family. Well, what she called a family, which wasn't much. It was enough to, everytime she was out on an assignment, want to go back home though. She didn't know where she'd be without her meager amount of family. Meager, but enough to live for. Enough to be hunting for. "No more holophone calls," she groaned to herself, hearing the holophone ring on the ground floor of her two-story home. "It's way too early!" She covered her head with her pillow and her exposed body with her blanket. But it kept ringing. Whoever was calling needed her, badly, it seemed. She sighed after a few more rings, then rolled herself out of bed, trudged herself down the stairs, and walked over to the holophone, which hung securly on the wall. She picked it up, and with a groggy voice, she asked, "Yes?" Silence, then immedatly, as if a recording, someone began to speak to her. "We have an assignment for you," was all it said, along with a relay of coordinates. Eager, excited, she pulled a pen from the counter standing next to the phone, pulled the cap off, and wrote a jumble of coordinates on her hand. A huge grin was spread acros her face. IT relayed a time to be at the set coordinates, then, when the phone line disconnected, she hung up and jumped up and down, looking at her hand.

She was back on the job.

With only about ten minutes before the designated time to be where the coordinates said - meaning to time to get anything done other then to get changed into her usual hunting garb - she was quicker then a whip, up the stairs, rummaging at the bottoms of her drawers to find her suit. She smiled to herself and quickly changed. When she ran back down her stairs, almost tripping on the last two steps, she grabbed her black, dulled, trusty boots, and was out the door, the pair in her hands. A small, tan, unmarked pod was waiting for her. She got in without thinking, and it sped off toward the coordinates that all ready seemed too be programmed in. Getting her shoes on; it didn't take as long as she thought, and when the small pod came to a stop, she looked out the heavily tinted window to see a huge, dark blue, almost black, palace in front of her. She looked away, and a note, as if out of no where, was on the seat next too her. She picked it up doubtfully, wondering if that was there when she first got in, and opened the folded peice of paper.

It read simple: the target was named Cad Bane, a bounty hunter also, apparently, who was in a Republic prison. So it wasn't a hunt. It was a rescue mission someone didn't want to risk their own skin to break out. She scoffed to herself. Break him out without killing, if she could help it, don't get caught, get him back to these exact coordinates in one peice. She'd be paid to the fullest extent - the word fullest was underlined. Twice. She almost laughed at that. Almost. She looked up from the note to realize the pod was off and moving again. She sighed as she leaned back into the soft-leather seat. Weather she liked it or not, she supposed, the job was her's.


	2. Chapter 1

It was quiet in the holding chamber that particular night. Then again, it was always quiet in the middle of the night at the prison. Everyone was either asleep or wallowing so deep in their self-pity that they lost track of time. Bane wasn't though. He was as he spent every night: sitting up, his back against the cold cemente wall, looking up at the cemente ceiling through his large red eyes. He'd never move from that one spot, even if he did end up having exaustion take over his body. He'd fall asleep in that position most nights. A few nights, however, he'd listen in on the two clone guards when they talked to each other over the comlink lines. This just happened to have been one of those nights, but he wasn't really paying any attention. They had become static in the back part of his mind. Most of his mind was at an impasse, simply going over the plan to destory Windu and Kenobi when he broke out of here, if he ever did. The hopelessness of escaping on his own had creeped in weeks ago, slowly engulfing and obliterating all hope of getting out.  
He sat still as his eyes drifted closed, the two clone troopers talking about something that had no meaning to Bane whatsoever. As sleep slipped into his body, the voices turned slurred and monotone. It seemed like forever went by in this middle state, between asleep and awake. The troopers more than likely didn't notice, for they never do, as he jerked back up into his straight sitting position. This is one of the most ridiculous, most embarassing things he's ever had to go through. He started to slip off into sleep, finally, but a voice, panicked and struggled, cut through the silence, jerking him awake.

"We've got... We've got a girl, no no, she's... She's..." The trooper was cut off by blaster fire and a loud female battle cry. Bane was nonchalantly scooting closer to his bars as the transmission continued, repeated blasterfire and shouting in the background. "She's heading toward the prison block. We've set the whole place on total lockdown; she's armed, so watch yourselves." More shorts fired, making the wristcom crackle static, then go silent. Bane heard faint slamming and blasterfire, which could only mean this girl was close. But what was this? Did he have hope? A very faint glimmer of hope that this might finally be the rescue he had been hoping for? He brought his feelings back to the present, where the sounds of blasterfire and battlecries were growing louder by each shot. The troopers that were standing guard had come to attention; they got up and armed themselves at the door, loading their blasters. Bane sat silently next to his jailcell bars, listening the the echoing slams against the metal hallways right outside the door. They took aim at the door, poised and waiting for the doors to open. And in a split second, it all went quiet, the silence engulfing the room. Even the other prisoners had gone silent.

Repeated, cosectutive blasterfire followed as quickly as the silence entered the room. The large metal door remained unmarked, the blasterfire would've surely at least made a dent, and still, even though the blasterfire continued at a rapid pace. What was she doing? Just keeping her finger pressed onto the trigger? If this were his job, Bane wouldn't make the job any harder than it had to be. He'd be quick, quiet, and he'd make as little of a commotion as possible. The nagain, she could be brand new to the hunting business, but all hunters have experince, no matter brand new or otherwise. The blasterfire was stopped short, making Bane look up at the door, which still seemed unharmed. The only difference between now and before the shots were fired was that there was a faint metal groaning reverberating throughout the walls. The troopers exchanged a look before the groaning got louder, audible in the air now; the metal door started to shift forward, making the troopers back up as it fell faster and faster until it slammed against the floor and at their armored feet.  
And there, in the gaping doorway, stood a tall young woman with peach-colored skin and short, unruly black hair. Her dark green eyes blazed with determination and focus, her iris' outlined in red. She dressed herself in a short sleeved but flowing navy blue shirt and black leggings. Two professional-grade blasters, one in each hand, were pointed at the troopers' chest. Three shots were fired. That was it, and the two went down, their bodies thudding to the floor with a half-satifying thud. Bane sat staring at the bodies, looking at the smoking blaster wounds in their chest plates. It looked like where she had shot wasn't fatal. Why go down if you haven't been fatally shot? That was the problem with Republic clones, he mused, they never could take a shot. The girl walked over to his cell, gingerly stepping over the bodies and the door like she was avoiding landmines. She spotted him, and said in a voice heavily laced in an accent he couldn't place, "Scoot back." And, weirdly enough, he did so, picking himself up and moving back a few spaces. She took one of the blasters in her hand and shot at the lock to his cell door a few times before it fizzeled out and the cell opened. Bane stood mutely, probably a bit of a sore sight. "I trust you're Cad Bane?" she asked him, her eyes determined and steady. He nodded mutely. "C'mon, we're getting out of here." That was all he needed to hear to get to this girl's side and get of there as fast as possible.

"So, do I get to know your name?" he finally asked her as they bolted through the hallways, clone bodies strewn everywhere. "You'll know when we're safe," the escapee replied simply, eyes darting about. Her eyes had been wiped of all of that focus and fearlessness that was there earlier, and the red had diminished from her eyes as well. They were fully green, clear, and quiet. She seemed so much younger now, yet nothing really had changed. They cut a corner and continued, Bane simply becoming a follower. "We're almost there. This is the way I came out." She smiled a little, realizing that getting this mission done was almost too were no more troopers here on a Replubic prison? This place held some of the Republic most feircest enimies, and there were only a dozon or two of clones to stand watch? They rounded another corner, not loosing step. But they stopped dead in their tracks - both of them - as the female bounty hunter's eyes widened.  
She supposed this was the rest of the troopers that she hadn't taken down when she made her first round. Or she had taken them down, there was a few troopers with bullet wounds, but they got up and recovered. "By the grand order of the Republic and the Jedi High Council, the two of you are under arrest," one of them declared, making Bane throw a scowl at her. "You were stripped of all your weapons when you were brought here?" she asked, switching her blaster over to a more fatal setting - kill rather than stun - and handing it over for Bane to take as he grunted in agreement. "Well, work with what ya got." And the shots flew, Bane firing first and shooting one of them right in the head.

It didn't take too long for one side to prevail over the other - the female had an impecible shot, Bane would give her that - the bodies soon strewn all across the floor. Her eyes had rimmed red again and clouded in focous, her breathing had become hitched and quick. "C'mon, we need to move," she stated, picking her feet up and speed-walking out of the corridor, Bane following right behind. "Why you in such a rush little lady?" Bane teased her, making her throw a look over her shoulder, eyes clearing.  
Then a thought came to mind. "They're not dead are they?" he asked, sneering in disgust. She kept her blaster set at stun? She was a _coward_? "My job was to get you out and spare as many lives as possible, not to slaughter an entire pataloin," she snapped back, picking her feet up and walking faster. Touche.  
They finally reached the outside of the prison, sun glowing brightly in the sky. Coruscant and all of it's glory. Three months in the dark, the cold, and Bane was back in action. He almost smiled. He looked over at the girl, who stood there with - oh thank the stars - his wide-brimmed hat. He took it gingerly from her hands, not bothering to ask questions, and he set it firmly back on his head. "So do I get your name missy?" he asked her finally, looking into the clear, almost frightened green eyes. "Nira," she stated simply, her voice betraying what her eyes held. "Now let's go."


End file.
